


A Mutual Exploration

by cachinnation31



Category: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, walton and frankenstein attended the same university (at least for a little bit) i made the rules
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cachinnation31/pseuds/cachinnation31
Summary: Walton had no particular plans to become a medical anything, but his parents paid his way into the University of Ingolstadt, and there wasn't much he could do about that now.It's not all bad here though; Walton's anatomy class gifts him a strange classmate, whom he cannot help but find himself drawn to.
Relationships: Victor Frankenstein/Robert Walton
Kudos: 8





	A Mutual Exploration

**Author's Note:**

> i've been reading a lot of romantic/victorian british literature can you tell

If there was one thing Robert Walton could say about Victor Frankenstein, it was that the man was equal parts alluring and terrifying.

His introduction to this thoroughly mysterious character had been in the singular anatomy course he had attended during his time at the University of Ingolstadt, where his brief and unsuccessful stint as a doctoral hopeful had persuaded him most fully to instead pursue his lifelong dream of exploring the Great Poles of the world.

The first lecture he had arrived a touch late to, and discovered to his great dismay that the only available seat was a front-row seat, next to a man who looked less like a man and more like a haunted specter, hanging on to this mortal realm by single taught thread, and an even tighter grip upon his pencil.

That first lecture had been incredibly disheartening; the droning of his professor’s voice, the just-too-cold temperature of the lecture hall, and the insistent scratching of pencil on paper all around him tested Walton’s ability to stay conscious, despite all the factors enticing him otherwise. He must have lost this battle, though, because in what seemed to have been an instant, he found himself being asked in a rather rude tone of voice, “Might I get through?”

He looked up blearily at his interrogator, only to find the surprisingly handsome face of his seat neighbor, furrowed with clear annoyance, looking down at him.

“Whuh--?” he responded most eloquently.

“Not all of us have all the time in the world to be sleeping through our education,” responded his neighbor. “Now would you  _ kindly _ move aside so I may leave?”

Walton leaned back in his chair, enjoying the way the chair’s creaking seemed to cause his new friend to grimace further. “Why of course, my dearest liege, my  _ sincerest _ apologies. I wasn’t aware you had  _ duties _ to attend to so soon after this most  _ illuminating _ lecture,” he responded, folding his arms leisurely behind his head.

He laughed as his nameless neighbor pushed his chair back in place and shoved his way past him; and so began the most interesting class Walton attended throughout his brief stay at the University.

To his delight, when he next walked in to the lecture hall, the same empty seat remained next to his oh-so-wonderfully-dispositioned seat neighbor. The following weeks taught him what few snippets of anatomy he deigned to pay attention to in lecture, but also gave him  _ precious _ nuggets of information about his newfound object of interest.

The man who occupied the seat next to him went by the name of Victor Frankenstein; he often stayed behind after lectures to discuss  _ something _ or another with the professor, whom Walton had long forgotten the name of; his face was perpetually wan and haunted by dark circles that hung below his eyes, which added to the dark mystery of his character; his handwriting, which drowned out the white surface of his notebooks, was barely better than chicken scratch; and Walton was finding himself increasingly and disconcertingly in awe with this person whom he only saw thrice a week.

His new routine of coming to class, sleeping through lecture, heckling his neighbor, and overall spending far too much of his energy thinking of the man who occupied the seat next to him was thoroughly derailed when, to his great surprise, he walked in to class (late as usual) one day to find not one, but  _ two _ seats empty in the front row.

He sat through that lecture silently, too disturbed to even doze off, and left the classroom that day immensely intrigued.

From that point on, Frankenstein’s attendance record-- which had previously been previously spotless-- was now pockmarked with absences, to the point where Walton found himself attending class for the second week in a row without ever having seen the man.

It wasn’t until Walton found himself aimlessly wandering the university library-- the  _ library _ of all places!-- that he realized that his newfound obsession might be going a touch too far; however, any further train of thought was most thoroughly derailed when he saw his quarry, hunched over another defaced notebook, next to a stack of books that quite nearly concealed him entirely.

Walton was  _ never _ one to pass up quite a great opportunity.

He slid into the seat across from Frankenstein less-than-subtly, and carelessly plucked a book off the top of the stack. “ _ De incertitudine et vanitate scientiarum _ \-- by God, how do you even get past these  _ titles _ ?” he declared loudly, idly flipping through the leaves of the book.

Frankenstein glared up at him, his furious notebook-scratching stuttering to a complete halt. “You,” he muttered, and returned his attention devoutly to his notebook.

Walton stared at him curiously; usually Frankenstein never failed to react to his gibes, but he was being unusually tame today. He continued to flip through the book in his hand, skimming its contents idly and snatching fleeting glances at his classmate. He eventually set down the first book, and turned to the rest. To his horror, he found every book had similarly long and complicated titles to the first. He turned to Frankenstein and-- a bit loudly, he’d admit-- hissed “Have you got nothing else to do all day, man? What are you even researching?”

Frankenstein turned to him with such force and ferocity in his eyes that Walton was almost taken aback; “What would you care?” he hissed. “A dimwit like you who can’t even stay awake in the most basic of classes could never understand what  _ monumental _ discoveries I strive towards!”

Walton stared in disbelief, and just barely contained his laughter. “My God-- do you-- do you even  _ hear _ yourself speak?” he wheezed. “ _ ‘Monumental discoveries _ ’-- Christ  _ almighty _ , you sound like a character straight out of a novel!” He watched with delight as Frankenstein’s face reddened with anger. “What in seven hells could be so important for  _ you _ to skip these ‘basic classes’ for?”

Frankenstein stood suddenly at this, pulled a book strap out of his pocket, and started wrapping up his research materials.

Walton rose with him, curiosity mounting. “What’s the matter now? Look, I can help you carry these if you need--” --for now Frankenstein was struggling to lift his  _ monumental _ stack of books off the table-- “-- _ Frankenstein _ \--” --the man narrowly dodged Walton’s outstretched hand-- “-- _ Christ _ ,” and Walton finally seized the stack from Frankenstein’s hands.

Frankenstein stared at Walton, then at his books, as though in disbelief.

“What?” said Walton. “I’ll warrant actually  _ eating _ and  _ sleeping _ grants you more strength than whatever  _ you’ve _ been doing to yourself,” and gave Frankenstein a pointed once-over.

Frankenstein made a half-hearted grab towards his books. “I’ve been doing fine on my own, thank you very much,” he snapped.

“Clearly not,” remarked Walton, as he turned and headed towards the library’s exit.

Frankenstein hurried to match his pace, scowling all the way. “I never asked for your help,” he muttered darkly.

“No,” agreed Walton, “But it’s just in my nature to be a  _ good Samaritan _ and help out a dearest classmate!” He flashed Frankenstein a cheeky grin. “Would you fault me for that?”

Frankenstein turned away, still scowling.

By now they were well out of the library, and were headed down one of the campus’s central paths. Despite the pleasant afternoon weather, the campus was relatively empty-- unsurprising, considering Walton and Frankenstein were missing out on their anatomy lecture for… whatever this was.

“Let me take you to lunch,” said Walton lightly.

“I can feed myself,  _ Walton _ .”

Walton gave him a curious side glance. “And where is the evidence, good sir? Far as I can see, you’re naught but stick and bone, if even!”

Frankenstein opened his mouth as if to respond, but was summarily interrupted by a bestial growl from his middle.

Walton grinned at him. “I’ll take that as a yes.”


End file.
